Dave Richards: The winter with no end winds down

This has been the winter of my discontent, disgust and discombobulation.

Official records say it hasn't been the snowiest or the coldest winter ever in Erie, but they don't take into account the combination of those two factors and others -- the winter whammy index (WWI).

According to an algorithm I developed (patent pending) that is based on temperature, wind speed, snowfall, ice thickness on windshields, intensity of teeth chattering, time spent shoveling, consecutive number of days without a glimmer of sunlight and the number of daydreams involving trips to the Bahamas and drinking strawberry daiquiris, the winter of 2013-14 has set the record for misery.

We're in March and, as I write this, I am still shivering. I keep delaying the reading of my gas meter for fear my monthly billing will skyrocket to car-payment levels. I wear a bathrobe to stay warm while watching television, and I only watch shows set in warmer climates.

"Amazing Race," you're fine for now, but if you visit Scandinavia or Iceland, I'm out of there. I skipped most of the Winter Olympics for the same reason. That was the last thing I needed to see -- more snow and ice.

Is getting older, and therefore crankier, a factor in all this? I don't remember feeling so afflicted in any other winter. Sure, there were spells of endless shoveling and the occasional day the temperature plunged below zero.

It's Saturday? Time for the Crooked I. Wednesday? Time for Film at the Erie Art Museum. Friday? Time for happy hour. Saturday or Sunday afternoon? Time for a movie at Tinseltown. Thursday? Maybe go out for dinner or visit Presque Isle Downs & Casino.

I don't like staying home. I am a get-out-and-do-something-to-avoid-doing- laundry person. Yet, this winter defeated me. If winter could gloat, it would.

So many nights I looked outside and then froze like the icicles hanging from the porch roof and thought, "'Yeah, right.'" Then I kicked off my boots, made a cup of hot chocolate and scrolled the guide to see what was on TV, or I dove into a book.

But the end is in sight, right? Signs are everywhere.

Tickets went on sale Saturday for the Erie SeaWolves. Baseball!

I see patio furniture and outdoor grills prominently featured in advertising flyers.

Daylight saving time starts today and, as I write this, the sun is shining brightly for the first time since September.

I see hope, but I'm no dope. This is Erie. This is March. The shovel stays put on the porch for now.

DAVE RICHARDS can be reached at 870-1703 or by e-mail at dave.richards@timesnews.com. Follow him on twitter at Twitter.com/ETNrichards.